


Working Past It

by tyrellis



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrellis/pseuds/tyrellis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter what Jean may say, it's not Eren's fault that this happened: he was just innocently searching for a working vending machine. Jean had the good voice, and sang in French, and seemed like an angel. Eren feels entirely justified in the disappointment he feels when he discovers Jean's actually a massive dickhead.</p><p>They work past it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Past It

**Author's Note:**

> hey hi hello there. got sucked into the erejean void so obviously had to write fic for it. eren fights a lot, jean's grandma is sick, they meet, they fight, they fall in love. actually have no proper knowledge of hospitals and i was too lazy to research them, so...if those scenes are a bit inaccurate, just...extend belief. please. for those who don't know, prelims are mock exams that take please in January (meaning after 3rd year you don't have a christmas holiday. wanted to kick back and relax after four months hardcore studying? fuck u bitch get back to work). fifth year is hELLA important in the scottish school system, like, make or break your uni application form, so...eren's probably v glad to be done with it (as am i frankly). anyways, hope u enjoy this dumbness, and if u do, feedback would be lovely, but don't feel obliged :)

This is not how Eren envisioned their first proper meeting. He had dreams of it - numerous ones, actually, and quite vivid, too - about how suave and charmingly reckless he'd seem as they caught sight of one another and he introduced himself. The other boy would laugh with him about his many exploits, and talk all sweet to Eren with his lovely Frech accent and rich voice. God, maybe they'd even hold hands before they departed.

It ends up the exact opposite.

They both end up in the cafeteria at the same time, for once. They're both in the queue at the til, a queue that consists mostly of other visitors or patients who are allowed to roam the hospital. Eren scrapped up enough change justify buying a decent meal and came here after he was patched up. The boy's at the front, and his server - some sweet-looking girl probably only their age, probably volunteering - seems to mess up his order drastically; the guy's having a hissy fit.Well, he was. Then Eren stepped in.

"Apologise!" he shouts at the boy - his name's Jean. Eren knows because he asked an attendant a couple weeks ago.

"What do I need to apologise for?" Jean demands,  _still_  holding the queue up like the rude asshole Eren never thought he could be.

In fact, he's absolutely appalled by the guy.

"You're being  _the_  rudest asshole ever to this cashier for something that isn't even her fault! And you've been holding the queue up for at least ten minutes!" Eren can't believe he actually has to spell this out. God, he was  _so wrong_  about this guy.  _So wrong_.

"That's not my fault! If  _someone_  had just done their job right, then this wouldn't be happening!" Christ, that is a nice accent though. It gets stronger the angrier he is. Eren almost  _wants_  to rile him up.

"So? Don't take it out on some young underpaid worker! Go to HR and let them deal with it! Christ, I can't believe you're being such a prick about this!" Jean's eyes narrow in fury.

"Me? A prick? Do you even know who you're talking to?"

"Does it look like I give a crap?" Eren demands, stepping closer. "You could be David fucking Cameron and I'd still call you out on your BS."

"I'm Jean fucking Kirschtein, asshole!" Jean fucking Kirschtein proclaims angrily, closing the cap between them. Around them some people gasp, then whisper excitedly. Eren continues to not give a crap.

"To me you're just a prick with a horseface, horseface," Eren replies, getting right up into Jean's space. The other boy practically  _hisses_ , face turning red from anger, fists curling by his sides. Now  _that's_  a game Eren knows how to play - and how to win.

"The hell did you just call me?" Jean almost yells. From this distance - or lack of, really - Eren can feel the heat of Jean's breath against his face, and for some reason, this makes him inexplicably angrier.

"Horseface, horseface!"

To Eren's credit, he doesn't know throw the first punch. He does, however, throw the rest, and a few kicks, and, okay, maybe he pins the guy and between punches tells him what a rude, conceited tool he is.

It's a bad habit.

Eren's distracted, for a brief second, by the feel of Jean's lean thighs against his, and the way Jean's chest heaves beneath his spread palm, and how he still looks hot even with some blood running down his chin.

Then Jean starts wailing on his shoulders and Eren has to grab his wrists in one hand to stop him, and there's a look in Jean's eyes and  _oh, okay_ -

Of course, at this precise moment the hospital security intervenes and pulls them off one another, and they're both about to get banned from hospital - Eren on account of beating up a visitor and Jean for starting the fight - when Eren points out he's here every few days for treatment, anyway, and Jean pulls the do-you-know-who-I-am card. It's a lot more effective on the security team that it on Eren.

They depart with sullen glances and a fortnight's suspension from the hospital.

As Eren starts walking - a glance behind him tells him Jean's calling for a taxi - he immediately starts texting Armin to rant about his disappointment in this once potentially angelic boy.

To hermione 8):  _met hspl babe 2day. was total dick and maybe famous?? do u no a Jean Kirschtein? got in2 fist fight, was distractd by pretty eyes. still think he's hot even tho dick. how fuckd am i on scale 1-10_

The reply takes a while and Eren pops into Boots for their meal deal - dinner at the cafeteria was quickly abandoned after he's been suspended - and a new pack of bandages. Blood is trickling from his nose from Jean's first punch, and his knuckles are torn from punching, as always. By the time he's done, Armin's replied.

From hermione 8):  _U fucked at least an 8.5 =/ what kind of dick was he? Rude, mean, boring etc? Problems can be solved. Though yes, Clara Kirschtein is clothing label like v famous eg Hugo Boss verging on Alexander Wang, proper designer. Did he dress nice?_

He'd been wearing the same white shirt tucked into a pristine pair of black trousers with the black waistcoat on top, as usual.

_he wears schl uniform so? he was famous + rude dick but dick sing so pretty an so french. still want 2 bang him_

_Ok well befriend him and gently show him how not to be rude. Pls don't start fights. Tell him he sings nice?_

_no id look like a creep. try an make friends but got him kickd out of hspl 4 a while so.._

_Ur useless. It's the effort that counts Eren._

_ugh_

\--

Eren didn't see Jean at first. No, he  _heard_  him, and what a glorious sound it was: God himself had opened the heavens and allowed some angel to wander amongst mere humans.

Specifically, a patient's room in the long-term care section of the hospital. Which wasn't  _exactly_  on the way out from the A&E , but Eren had been looking for a working vending machine for like ten minutes, okay.

So, he just happened to stumble across this angel singing. No, not just singing, although the choral tenor itself was something to behold - but singing  _French_. For a second, Eren seriously entertained the idea that he'd died and gone to Heaven, but the smell of antiseptic and old people was enough to bring him back pretty quick.

Oh yeah, and the incessant aching in his knuckles, nose, left torso... Getting in fights was a bitch.

Unbidden, Eren found himself following the voice to an open door around the corner, and when he peeked in, he saw a boy in a white shirt and black waistcoat sitting on a visitor's chair with a two-toned undercut, cradling something - presumably the patient's hand - in his lap. He faced away from Eren so he couldn't see his features, but he didn't need to. Eren just knew the guy would be beautiful.

Instead of leaving like a less creepy person would do, Eren sat on a bench outside, pretending to leaf through some trashy mag whilst basking in the voice of an angel.

He was still there half an hour later when visiting hours ended and the boy left. He was a little taller and a little leaner than Eren, with a narrow face and spectacularly angled cheekbones. He had amber eyes and rosy lips.

He was  _so hot_.

All this Eren took in very discreetly in one, perhaps slightly prolonged, glance.

He then proceeded to spend every second he could listening to the boy. If that meant getting into more fights than usual and becoming familiar with the attendants in the long-term care wing, well, listening to that boy sing made it all worth it.

\--

Through Eren's continued creeping, he'd learned that the boy was called Jean Kirschtein - god bless attendants who liked people who brought them coffee - and, according to his facebook, he was Eren's age and went to the top class St. Maria's Academy across town. Boy was hella rich, hella hot, and hella good at singing. Eren saw no wrong, and often texted Mikasa and Armin about him.

They repeatedly told him he was a creep and could probably get some kind of harassment lawsuit out of this, but also saw something sincere behind all his bull about how hot the guy was, so they went along with him.

He spent maybe a month in that wing, listening to some Jean Kirschtein sing sweet as an angel in French.

A whole fucking month, and he was so fucking wrong.

\--

Of course, Eren ends up in the hospital not two days later. He's so pissed at himself, for letting himself be enchanted by pretty faces and voices when he  _knows_  looks aren't everything. He's so mad that he actively got into  _more_  fights for that dick, and he's furious that it genuinely  _upsets_  him that Jean Kirschtein is nothing like Eren thought.

So, naturally, Eren gets into...even  _more_  fights.

Mikasa's not happy about it, and Armin asks if he's actually made some kind of plan, but Eren's too involved in his angsting to listen to them.

Eren gets into nine fights in fourteen days, and as pissed as security is with him, they can't exactly tell him to go to some other hospital. So they treat him, and he leaves immediately, and he sulks. He hasn't stopped sulking since the fight, actually.

On the fifteenth day, Eren does not get into a fight. In fact, he's remarkably quiet for five days - as long as he's away from Jean, he can entertain the possibility that they can overcome this and become friends, and he doesn't want to face reality and Jean's certain snub.

However, on the twentieth day, certain assholes who don't know when to leave Armin alone force Eren into a dumb brawl of five-on-two, with Mikasa taking on four of them and winning without a scratch and Eren only getting his one down after being smashed in the face.

"You should go to the hospital for that," Mikasa suggests quietly. Eren wants to protest with every bone in his body, but there's blood trickling from his nose and he lifts his hands to wipe it away from his lips.

He goes, and once he's been treated, Eren almost doesn't go by the long-term care unit. Nerves keep trying to get the best of them, and too-possible fears telling Eren that the second he sees Jean, he's going to get a big fucking slap to the face.

But he goes, because it's been over a fortnight since hearing Jean's dulcet tones and he has a bit of craving, frankly.

 _Ah yes_ , there it is. Eren nods at the attendants lingering in the halls, who all eye him a bit suspiciously, and sets himself up with his usual chocolate bar and trashy mag. Heavens above, how could God gift such an angelic voice to a guy so...un-angelic as Jean fucking Kirschtein?

Well, at least when he's singing he isn't talking his usual shite. Eren can just relish in the famliar, clear voice curving round words he doesn't understand. The sounds wash over him, like fresh water on a dry shore, and he leans back, eyes drifting shut as he slowly relaxes. He dozes, flickering in and out of conscious as Jean's voices rises and falls. Eventually, he's startled into absolute wakeness by a brash voice saying, "Hey." A pause then, "You fuck."

Immediately Eren's eyes find Jean's, glowering above him. All previous worries vanish and Eren stands. Together, they walk to the exit.

"Hey, asshole," Eren replies. "You gonna apologise for how much of a dick you were before?"

"...Yeah, if you apologise for how hard you hit me." Jean punctures him with a glare. "And introduce yourself. Don't think I never saw you creeping around here before."

 _Dammit_. Eren blanches at the thought of causing Jean any real harm, then at how obvious he must've been, hanging around outside every now and then without actually  _doing_  anything.

"Shit, did I really hurt you? Did you bruise? Oh, crap, Jean, I'm sorry, but you were being  _such_  an asshole and fighting's practically my hobby." Jean's watching him blankly. "Oh, and I'm Eren Jaeger."

Jean shakes his hand. So he actually does have manners, what a surprise. Eren totally does not think about how soft and cool and long-fingered those hands are, nope, not at all. "I'm Jean Kirschtein, although you already seem to know that." Eren shrugs, unwilling to admit the embarrassing measures he's gone to to know anything about Jean. "And... Christ, this is so embarrassing. I'm sorry, too. I was in a bad mood, I'd just gotten some bad news, and I hadn't gotten much sleep... Not that I'm trying to make excuses for myself or anything, I just-!" Jean's flustered. It's as cute as Eren had ever hoped for. "I just had other things on my mind. So I'm sorry."

"It's not really me you should be apologising to," Eren replies breezily, "but that poor girl at the til. She was terrified."

"Ugh, I know," Jean mutters."Don't worry, I bought her flowers, it's fine."

"Flowers, huh? A real ladies' man, then."

Jean snorts. "Sure. Just like you, yeah?"

"Ladies? Not really my thing. Get me a good guy any day and I'm happy."

Eren thinks he should be embarrassed by how obvious this statement makes him - and  _Christ_  is he being obvious as hell about this - but he's too preoccupied with how Jean's stopped walking and is staring at him, all blushing and stuttering. For all that he's an asshole, he sure is super cute.

"R-really? You? You, er, you don't really seem like... I mean, I just thought, er..." He stops, face red, as Eren grins.

"Says the guy whose room I've been sitting outside of for the past two months."

"I... I thought you liked my voice."

"I like your  _everything_ , asshole. Except the fact that you're an asshole."

Jean's flushed face goes from flattered to pissed in two seconds flat. Dammit.

"Oh, shut up, idiot. You don't even know me."

"So date me."

Jean scoffs, still blushing, and continues walking. "Yeah, in your dreams," he mutters.

"Yeah," Eren sighs, earning another wide-eyed stare from Jean. He smirks back, because  _yeah_ , and Jean vehemently turns his eyes forward.

As they approach the exit, Jean digs outs his phone out to presumably call another taxi, and Eren asks, "Can I at least get your number?"

"Are you sure you don't hate me?" is Jean's reply. They stop in front of the double doors and face each other, Jean's features settled in disbelief. Eren grins, hopefully in encouragement, as Jean fumbles with his fancy phone.

"You're a bit of a tosser, sure, but you're still hot," Eren replies, completely honest. He means it entirely as a compliment - it's a great testament to how hot Jean is that Eren's still willing to pursue him after all - but sadly that is not how Jean takes it.

"Is that what matters to you then? How hot I am?" Jean demands, phone held tightly in his hands. His brows are furrowed and the downturn of his mouth is sharp, and Eren resists the sudden impulse to smooth the creases out of his face.

Jean's still glaring at him.

"I don't know anything else about you! So you should give me your number and we can fix that problem!"

He thinks it's a pretty convincing argument, at least.

Evidently, Jean thinks so too, because he thrusts his phone into Eren's face and says, "Fine! Just shut up, Christ."

"Rude," Eren points out, but takes the phone and adds his contact as _jaegerbomb <3_. "Now you gotta text me."

"Now?" Jean repeats, wrinkling his nose as he receives his phone and sees the new contact.

"Yeah, right now."

"Ugh," he says, and taps something into his phone.

 _Ugh_ , from Unknown, which Eren changes quickly to  _Jean bb <3_. Now they match. Eren sends him a smiley face to show him how happy is about this development.

Jean looks like he's going to say something more when there's an, " _Ahem_ ," and a wee old lady stares pointedly at the exit they're blocking.

Right.

Eren goes to hold the door open for the lady and Jean looks like he's going to go through first when Eren tosses him a glare.

" _Rude_ ", he mutters as Jean exits after her.

"Oh, shut up," Jean retorts wittily. "I refuse to hang around with someone who keeps saying I'm rude, you know."

"I'm just trying to make you a better person," Eren says, checking the time on his phone. "I'll talk to you later, alright? But I gotta go now."

"Please don't," Jean groans.

Perking up, Eren exclaims, "Don't what? Don't go? I mean, if you want my company  _that_  badly-"

"Ugh, don't  _talk_  to me later, idiot!" Jean fumes. "God, you're so annoying!"

"Rude."

"Just  _leave_."

After shooting him a smile, Eren does leave, pretty fast, actually - he  _does_  have a bus to catch, plus it's getting cold as hell outside.

Once he gets on, he plugs into his music and texts his two friends.

To hermione 8), ron :|:  _got hspl babe's no. #progress_

Mikasa's the first to reply:  _Congratulations. You should bring him over one day._

_mikasa i'm not gonna have him die at the hands of my sister_

_Consider it a very legitimate possibility._

Is it any wonder Eren can't get a date with a sister like her?

Okay, well, maybe the fighting thing doesn't help. Maybe he should stop with that - but it was due to fighting that he ever found Jean, so.

It remains to be seen whether this is a good or a bad thing. So far, the pros far outweigh the cons - the main pro being Jean's hotness and the whole singing-like-an-angel thing. He should do that more often.

Armin replies by the time Eren's got off at his stop.

From hermione 8):  _Thought he was 'total dick'. Did u only get his no. bc he's hot? Seriously?_

To hermione 8):  _Nah he well cute + sings nice so. also apologisd for dickishness. idk we can work on it_

_=/_

_< 3 <3_

\--

Eren's wooing of and/or 'subtle' attempts to de-rudify Jean go...not very well.

Their first text conversation goes as such:

To jean bb <3:  _fave: colour flower band city shop hair colour eye colour skin colour height size girl/boy/other??? pls_

From jean bb <3:  _?????_

_4 science_

_?? Alright green white chrysanthemums Arctic Monkeys Nice like M &S or like Topman? Dark hair idk any idk?? not super pale like me idgaf about height just not way too tall/short someone who keeps in shape girl/boy._

_ahh... good good. yeah fair enough, m &s is so £££ lol heh i know some1 who might fit that description... ;)_

_Yeah maybe you do that doesn't mean shit_

_Jean bb science says we're compatible_

He never got a reply. He worked so hard on that questionnaire as well, and is fairly pleased with the results. After all, Eren has dark hair and an eye colour - they're kind of green, too, which is Jean's favourite colour - and is barely shorter than Jean and keeps very much in shape. He's practically perfect for Jean.

He then texts Jean the next time they're at the hospital. The attendant takes a little longer kicking visitors out, so Jean's still singing when Eren has to sprint to the bus station.

To jean bb <3:  _nice singing 2day. v musical + french. gd job_

From jean bb <3:  _...Thanks_

_so y french?_

_My grandma's French, and she always spoke it to me so now I'm returning the favour_

_wow how cute of u. what songs do u sing_

_Shut up. Lovesongs mostly bc my grandparents always sang them to each other_

_so romantic!! will u sing me some french <3 songs?_

_Piss off_

_=(_

Despite the ending, Eren's pretty satisfied with the conversation. He learns a little about Jean and...oh, and held a normal conversation for like two minutes. Baby steps.

 _Yes, baby steps_ , Eren thinks when he types up the next message. He hasn't gotten in a fight for three days, and is having cravings about a certain someone's voice...and, you know, just general presence.

He decides to be blunt about it.

To jean bb <3:  _hey hey u u i want 2 b ur boyfriend_

From jean bb <3:  _No way no way I think you need to piss off_

Well then.

_Jean pls_

_Piss. Off._

Which is pretty clear - he put full stops and everything - so Eren stops texting him about that stuff and acts more...normal. Which results in (some) witty banter and a whole ton of dumb arguments.

He also continues to sit and listen to Jean sing whenever he ends up in A&E.

Eren's nursing a sprained wrist and multiple contusions on his face the next time he's in, maybe a fortnight since they traded numbers. Jean's voice is as lovely as ever, ringing out into the corridor and putting everyone in a far more agreeable mood. Eren knows at this points he's completely transparent, so leans his head back against the blue wall of the corridor and closes his eyes, focusing on the sound around him.

So good, so rich yet gentle, arcing through the notes and curving perfectly around the foreign nuances of the French language. There's a genuine swelling of emotion as the tune reaches its climax, then a few moments of quietness, perhaps soft discussion. When Jean next sings, it is sweet and barely audible, like a gentle lullaby.

Eren himself almost falls asleep listening to Jean, but he's determined to enjoy such an enchanting voice. Perhaps he's being melodramatic or is just biased, but, Christ, Jean's voice is the loveliest thing Eren's ever heard. It's soothing and never misses a note, it lilts and it carries and maybe it'll hesitate for a moment, then switch tune and keep going.

Eren thinks it's perfect. So much so, he's content to sit back, listen, and ignore everything else.

The tune dies down, but instead of silence for a second, then another song starting up, there's the scrape of a chair being dragged across the floor and a bag being picked up. By the time Eren opens his eyes, Jean's standing in the door frame, blazer on and backpack swung onto both shoulders.

For a second, Eren's slow from dozing and he offers Jean a lazy smile, pleased when the other boy's cheeks go rosy as he scowls back. The bright lights of the ward make Jean seem paler than he is, and the blush obvious, and satisfaction curls in Eren's gut at the thought that he - repeatedly - is the one to have done this.

Then reality checks back in, and the clock on the wall opposite tells Eren it's only ten past five.

Visiting hours close at six.

Eren jumps up to accompany Jean from the hosital. "Why're you out so early?" he asks.

Jean just shrugs. "She fells asleep, and she told me that whenever that happens I should just go."

"Has it happened before?"

"Yeah, it's been happening the past few days. Today was the earliest, though. Yesterday she was up til twenty to six..."

Jean's tone is a little lost, and a little tight, and looking closer, Eren sees lines where they hadn't been before - around Jean's eyes and the furrow of his brows. As they go forward, Jean looks back to his grandmother's ward as if he can make sure she's okay.

Eren can't do that either, so instead he asks, "Are you okay?"

Jean glances at him, casting his eyes to the ground and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah," he says, voice more hollow than usual. "Just a little worried."

The evidence is clear on Jean's face that he's worrying more than 'a little', but Eren doubts that pursuing this line of conversation will encourage Jean to open up to him.

It's still only quarter past five. "You wanna come to mine's?"

Jaw dropping a bit, Jean asks, " _Why_?"

"Well, you usually leave at six, so it's not like anyone'll miss you," Eren points out.

They're standing outside now, and the winter wind is unforgiving. It's already dark out, and Eren digs his matching olive green scarf and beanie set out his bag, winding the scarf round his neck as fast as possible.

Pausing, he offers the beanie to Jean and says, "Here, you can wear this on the way there."

Jean is absolutely scandalised and does nothing to hide it, looking for sure like he's about to refuse Eren before spluttering out, "That's- I don't- Why would I want your hat, anyway?!" He's flustered again, and grabs the beanie as he mutters, "They wouldn't miss me, anyway."

Eren raises his eyebrows, a little concerned by that last comment. "Is that a yes?"

"Ugh, just take me home already."

Leading the way, Eren grins and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Not like that, idiot!"

\--

The ride home is quiet. Jean's got his phone and some fancy headphones tucked in his blazer pocket, but still doesn't decline Eren's offer to share earbuds. When Jean's not complaining about Eren's awesome music taste and Eren's not telling him to shut the hell up, the ride is relatively quiet.

When they get off the bus, Eren sends a quick text to his friends to check if having Jean over will make things awkward.

To hermione 8):  _r u at mine?_  To ron :|:  _r u home and is it clean also wat r we havin 4 tea?_

Both replies come instantaneously. From hermione 8):  _Yes why?_  and from ron :|:  _Yes, fairly, mac and cheese if you buy some grated cheddar on your way home._

Alright, well...maybe having them both home will make it less awkward?

"Hey, Jean, my sister and my best friend are home, will that bother you?" Eren asks, because he's nothing if not a courteous host.

"Uh, will they be pissed?"

Eren glances at the row of question marks Armin's sent him. "Nah."

"No, then."

Nodding, Eren replies properly to Armin:  _bringing hspl babe home!!_

From hermione 8):  _Trousers off on the first date Eren? Really??_

_nah jk we chillin_

_Mikasa looks homicidal._

_ur her bf u deal with it_

_Ur her brother and the reason she's mad!_

_im bringing hspl babe home y cant u just be happy 4 me_

"Who're you texting?" Jean asks, evidently getting bored of Eren's constant tapping.

"Uh, just my friend," Eren replies, locking the phone. "Mind if we go in here for a sec? I need to grab some food."

Jean shrugs and follows him into the store, silent as Eren picks up some cheese, a couple of Cokes, and some sweets before scrambling up change in front of the self-serve.

He's distracted from counting pounds and pennies when Jean says, "I could, uh, pay for that." He's holding a ten pound note like it's nothing.

"I'm fine," Eren replies shortly, slotting coins into the machine.

"No, it's nothing to me and I might as well-"

"It's  _fine_ ," Eren cuts in, digging deep in his wallet for an extra twenty pence. Ah, there it is. "I can pay for shit myself. I don't need some rich boy to do it."

Conceding that by this point there's nothing he can do, Jean backs off, but not without a, "Christ, sorry for trying to help."

Shoving his purchases in a plastic bag, Eren says, "Yeah, well, just don't do it next time."

The five minutes home are quiet.

Eren lives in a seventh-floor flat next to a cluster of cheap shops and a small, dingy-looking park. He lives with his mum and his sister in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom, one-living/dining room and a kitchenette. It's probably not much to a boy of a designer, but it's still  _home_ , still warm and cosy and far preferable to the bitingly cold air outside.

Inside, Eren and Jean race one another up the stairs. Eren's in the lead at the start, but Jean pulls through at the end, claiming he's a stellar runner.

Laughing between pants, they go down til they're at his door and Eren lets them in from the freezing cold. They hang up their jackets on the pegs stuck to the front door and Eren gives Jean a brief rundown.

"Alright, first door on the left is the living room, the next one is the kitchen, the one at the top is the bathroom, top right is Mum's room and that's mine and Mikasa - my sister's - room," Eren explains briefly, pointing to each door in turn as he kicks his shoes off.

Armin and Mikasa are in the living room, music playing quietly from Armin's iPod as they study their textbooks - Armin's leafing through an encyclopaedia on the formation of rocks, and Mikasa's reading up on the dangers of engineering .

"Did you get the cheese?" she asks distractedly, not even looking up. Jean's all tense beside him.

"'Course," he replies. "Jean, that's my sister, Mikasa Ackerman, and my best mate, Armin Arlert."

Mikasa looks up at her name, nodding once as she meets Jean's eyes and says, "Hello," before returning to her book.

Armin's far more enthusiastic, thank God, jumping up and reaching to shake hands. Looking like he finally knows what to do, Jean returns the shake, and smiles hastily at Armin.

"Hi, I'm Armin. You're Jean, right? It's great to finally meet you." Armin's eyes slide to Eren's, cunning gleaming in them. "Eren's told us  _all_  about you."

Released from Armin's grip, Jean shoves his hands in his trouser pockets, tossing a glance at Eren as his cheeks heat up.

"Yeah, Jean Kirschtein, nice to meet you too. And, uh, you as well, Mikasa," Jean replies a little awkwardly. "And what the hell could you tell them about me?" he hisses to Eren, who does his best cheeky smirk in return.

"Told them what a hot piece of ass you are," Eren quips, delighting in Jean's red cheeks and the way he immediately swats him on the shoulder.

"Shut up, asshole," he mutters. Clearly attempting to divert attention from himself, he then asks, "If you and Mikasa are siblings, why are your surnames different?

Mikasa raises a single brow, unused to people being blunt about it, but otherwise keeps reading as Eren explains: "Oh, she's adopted, kept her last name. Mikasa, I'll be in our room. You want me to make dinner?

"I'll get it," she says, holding her hand out for the ingredient Eren purchased. "You wash dishes, though. Is he eating, too?"

After some rummaging, Eren pulls the cheese from the plastic bag and chucks it at his sister; she catches it without even looking, because she's worryingly incredible.

"Are you?" he asks Jean. He doesn't expect much, considering Jean's loaded and probably has an entire supermarket's worth of food at his disposal, so he's surprised when Jean nods, after checking the time and wringing his hands together like he's not sure he's given the right answer. "Cool," Eren says, nodding at Armin's cheerful wave and leading Jean out the room and into his and Mikasa's.

It's pretty obvious whose side is whose: Mikasa's neat and tidy, bed made, desk clear of clutter, clothes tucked away in her chest of drawers whilst her various things - violin case, hockey bag, boxing gloves - are stuffed under her bed, out of side.

Eren's side, as Armin constantly remarks, looks like a bomb's gone off: duvet twisted against the wall; books, DVDs, and action figures sprawled around the lamp on his bedside table; his small TV and Xbox 360 with various controllers are a mess of wires at the bottom of his bed; the entire contents of his wardrobe seem to be balled up on the ground.

The only part they share is the trophy case against the centre of the back wall, between the heads of their beds. Yes, okay, most of the medals and shit are Mikasa's - hockey, boxing, figure skating, music recitals: she does it  _all_  - but Eren's got some shit in there. Granted, it's mostly cups from the tae kwon do and karate championships he wins and some music stuff, but it still  _exists_. More than enough teachers have told Eren he'd never amount to anything. Apparently he amounted to at  _least_  a third of his and Mikasa's trophy case.

Between the case and his bed is his guitar, propped against the wall, all wrapped up in its case. He started playing as a kid, and even when times got tough and they started selling shit off, he clung to his scratched, sticker-ed acoustic with desperation. Thankfully, his mum saw talent where not many gave the chance; not once did she ask that he part with it.

Along with the music and martial arts, Eren has some other sporting achievements, but he's not amazing or intelligent like Mikasa and Armin. He's average, honestly, he just works really  _fucking_  hard to get what he wants, and besides...

Besides, Jean looks impressed. And Eren knows it's about him because Jean turns around from the display case to ask, incredulous, "You've  _won_  those things? Tae kwon do and...battle of the bands,  _really_? You play guitar? You never said!"

It's stupid, dammit, Eren's  _stupid_ , because he's working his ass off to charm Jean and make himself seem likeable, and all Jean has to do is compliment him -  _him_ , and not Mikasa or Armin - and Eren's fucking gone.

God, he has it, so,  _so_  bad for this guy . Then again, he knew that ever since he first heard him as he wandered the hospital corridors in search of a working vending machine.

He never did find one. He found something way better, though.

Ugh, God, now  _he's_  blushing, and Jean's still waiting for an answer. Right.

He tosses his school bag on the ground next to his bed, trying to seem nonchalant as he untangles his tie from the huge knot at the centre of his chest it's become. "Yeah. I've played since I was nine. And the martial arts stuff since I was four. Helps me with my anger stuff."

Jean's eyebrows quirk, but he doesn't pry; instead, says, "Guess that explains why you beat me."

"Please, you're a shit fighter, Jean,  _anyone_  could've beat you."

"Yeah, right, anyone else and I would've had them in twenty seconds flat."

"You were winded after twenty seconds of trying to hit me."

"You were a fast fucker! And I wasn't winded, you'd just punched my stomach! I told you, I run, I work out!"

"Not enough to beat me, obviously."

"Whatever. You have all them prizes and shit. Of course you won."

Wow, Jean conceding defeat? Eren peers back up at him, only to realise Jean's closer than before, face still red from their argument and looking oddly bashful.

This is...unexpected.

"Of course," Eren repeats, because he's literally at a loss for words, and he hones in on the first thing his eye catches. "You wanna hear me play?"

"Your guitar?"

"Yeah."

"Uh, sure. I guess."

Eren motions to his bed as he goes to his guitar. It must look ridiculous, since it's old as hell and covered in dumbass stickers - including one personalised 'jaegerbomb'. It sounds beautiful, though, the string healthy and strong, vibrating through the old wood. It's gorgeous, Eren thinks, and Jean must think so to because his eyes are soft and his tense shoulders relax a little as he sits primly at the end of Eren's bed.

"C'mon, sit like a normal person," Eren admonishes, grabbing his pillow and pressing it against the wall so Jean can shift back and sit comfortably against the wall.

"Excuse me for being polite," Jean has to snark. "It's rude to sprawl over someone's stuff without asking, you know!"

Eren scoffs loudly: "Who told you that, huh, Mummy and Daddy?"

Jean stiffens and Eren thinks  _oops_  before blurting out, "God, sorry, uh-"

"No, it's fine," Jean says, voice strained. There's a stilted silence that makes Eren rethink his entire life leading to this point, then Jean chooses to explain: "He - my dad - uh, he pissed off when I was young. Like, seven or eight. So. That's...not... He didn't, uh, really tell me anything, except that I was an awful child and too stupid to know it and that, uh, singing all the time like I used to was stupid and girly and- So. He left. And it's fine."

God, this is the opposite of what Eren wants. He wants Jean to forget his woes, and just be here, with Eren, not ten years ago with his dad, or a ten minutes' bus ride away in the hospital with his gran. He considers his options: does he try and console Jean, which he's always been pretty shitty at, or try to empathise by disclosing that his dad left, too?

Jean's shoulders are tight, his relaxed posture from before gone. Eren doesn't really know is empathy will work here - and he might as well offer some comfort since he provoked this.

"Is it?" he asks.

Jean just shrugs, staring at his knees and fiddling with the end of his waistcoat. "I don't really care, anymore. He left us, I don't have to give a shit, but...sometimes I remember and just get- mad, or, or sad, or whatever, and... Well, he's gone, and it doesn't matter anymore, so."

" _You_  matter to me," Eren says, carefully, wary he's getting a little intense. It's kind of a problem, and pretty hard to switch off. "And if you're sad, that really matters, 'cause I don't want you to be." Jean eyes are too bright. "So, like...are you sad?"

But now Jean's smiling a little - just a little - and he shakes his head. "No," he says."No I'm not, anymore. But thanks."

"It's fine," Eren replies, grinning. He sits at the edge of the bed, one leg on it so he can properly face Jean as he cradles his instrument to his chest. "Anyway...here's Wonderwall," and he plucks a few strings.

"Oh,  _god_ ," Jean groans, hand pressed to his forehead. "Really?"

"You got an issue?" Eren asks, still playing happily. Jean exhales heavily, meeting Eren's eyes with such a dismal look that Eren has to laugh and say, "Nah, mate, you're alright." Instead, he tries the first few chords of  _A Certain Romance_ , looking up at Jean's soft  _oh_.

His eyes have gone all soft again, and his long fingers drum against his equally long legs to the beat of the old song.

"You like this one, right? You were humming along to it on the bus." Okay, maybe Eren had  _totally_  played exclusively Arctic Monkeys on the bus to figure out Jean's faves, if only for this moment.

It's worth it, though, for the surprise - verging on amazement, if Eren's honest - blooming in Jean's eyes, the upturn of his lips, how fucking touched he sounds as he breathes, "Yeah, I do. My fave off Whatever You Say I Am, actually. How'd you know?"

"Just paid attention," Eren replies easily, plucking the high notes of the long intro now. Glancing up, he realises he was right - Jean looks amazed, absolutely floored, by Eren's answer. Like no else has paid attention to him before, or at least not to this extent.

God Eren could pay him  _so much attention_ , in  _so many ways_.

So he keeps playing, and Jean sings for him, he knows all the words because Eren keeps playing Arctic Monkeys,  _of course_ , and he likes the soft, romantic songs as much - perhaps more than - the tough drum-filled tunes stuffed full of irony.  _Of course_.

His voice perhaps isn't so suited to this - still heavenly, even now - and it's too crackly on the lower notes, but he segues through the sweet songs and laughs into the rocky ones, and they've actually reached the point of really serious eyes sex as Eren gets into  _stop makin' the eyes at me I'll stop makin' the eyes at you_  when Mikasa calls them for dinner.

Of course.

Jean's voice cuts out and when Eren's placed his guitar carefully on its soft case, his eyes are down and his cheeks are flushed and he has this small smile on that makes Eren want to kiss the everloving fuck out of him.

A knock at the door and a quiet, "Dinner will get cold if you don't come now," breaks Eren fully out of his trance.

"Come on," he says, his voice more gentle than usual, and Jean just nods and follows him.

Dinner is surprisingly pleasant, if animated. Their little table's placed against the wall and only has three chairs, so Mikasa takes their holey armchair and Armin and Jean - ostensibly as guests, although Armin practically lives here - get the sofa and Eren ends up on the floor, leaning against the sofa between their legs. Plain though the meal is, it still tastes delicious - cooking is one of Mikasa's many talents - and Eren's content to sit back and enjoy his dinner as the others talk between themselves.

Armin's quickly able to diffuse any awkwardness, asking Jean about St. Maria's Academy and what it's like there - lots of rich people, a bunch of assholes, and some crazy classes, apparently. Via Armin, Eren learns that Jean takes English, Modern Studies, and French, all at Advanced Higher, and Higher Philosophy; that he always ends up in all the running events, from 100m to cross-country, and prefers track and field to team-oriented sports; his favourite teacher is someone called Mrs Zoe, who makes Philosophy the most entertaining subject  _ever_ ; and that he has three very good friend, called Marco Bodt, Sasha Braus, and Connie Springer.

Even as he mutters about how they're all little shits, even Marco except that's worse because Marco is an 'absolute  _angel_ ' and always shows the rest of them up - even so, there's a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and his eyes are distant, like he's imagining them right now, and it's so clear that he's so  _fond_  of them, and Eren can't help but hope he looks like this when - if - he ever talks about Eren.

One day, God, he can dream.

Eventually Jean reveals he actually wants to be a lawyer - at this point tea's finished and Eren's dumped all the dishes in the sink to deal with later. Armin, being educated on literally everything, starts a conversation about moral ambiguity and the part it plays in law cases; Eren brings his Xbox into the living room and starts playing Peggle 2 against Mikasa, who remains relatively quiet. He gives Jean a Coke and keeps the other for himself, tossing the sweets to whoever wants any.

Mikasa's totally kicking his ass - no surprise there - as Eren learns that Jean's actually more humane that Armin in desperate situations, and also really fucking intelligent about his chosen field of study. It's only when they start talking about English that Eren can chip in between mouthfuls of his chocolate buttons. Jean's thinking of doing his dissertation about how French literature was affected by the revolutions; Eren explains his idea of discussing screenplays as a genre instead of prose or poetry.

He also continues to lose at Peggle to Mikasa, fuck his life and her general incredible-ness at, like, everything. Jean's totally not against calling him out on it, cackling every time Eren growls and tosses his controller down. Of course, the second Eren challenges him to a game - and the various packets of Haribos are done - Jean begs off.

"No, I'm serious, I'm not usually out  _this_  late," Jean insists, attempting to dodge Eren from tickling him into submission. Of course, he only presses further back against the sofa, offering no escape as Eren descends on him, laughing, "C'mon, Eren, it's past eight! I haven't even checked my phone in two hours."

Eren knows all too well the problems that can arise from that, so he lays off, ignoring Armin and Mikasa's combined eyebrow raise as he sprawls to the side of Jean on the sofa. "Alright, but don't think I'm not gonna beat your ass at Peggle one day."

Jean snorts, distracted as he skims his phone. Eren peeks over his shoulder, grinning as it displays a convo between Jean and his friend Sasha - her contact is 'potato girl =/' and Eren wonders if Jean kept his contact name.

He grins further when he reads Sasha's latest text:  _hangin with the """"idiot"""" from the hospital lol sure jean suuuuure ;) ;) ;)_

"Wow, Jean, 'idiot'? I'm hurt." 

Jean whips around, face - and lips, a little thin and rosy pink - dangerously close to Eren's. (Incidentally, his own lips are a soft red-brown and quite luscious, he likes to think.)

"Oh, piss off! What was I supposed to call you? The guy who stalked me for like a months before beating me up?"

Eren shrugs. "You could've at least said I was fit."

Jean flushes hotly, locking his phone, which then immediately lights up with a text from 'marco man (amen)'. "I call them as I see them," he replies primly.

"Exactly," Eren grins, earning him another swat on the shoulder. "Alright, alright, whatever. You know how to get home from here?"

Jean shrugs. "Not really, but I'm calling my driver, so it's fine." And proceeds to do just that, pausing briefly to ask Eren the address. Mikasa's not watching, but she's listening - she and Armin have squished into the armchair, and she's playing wih the loose ends of a red scarf Eren gave her years ago. Armin looks unsurprised, but still a little awkward as the three of them listen to Jean call his own  _driver_  and order him to pick Jean up from...here.

Well, whatever. It's not Eren's issue, and Jean isn't being rude, so that's what matters.

"Alright," Jean says, hanging up, "he'll be here soon. It was, uh...nice of you to have me over, so, uh, thank you."

Eren grins at the way Jean refuses to meet his eyes and scratches the back of his neck. "Any time," Eren replies sincerely, adding cheekily, "for  _any_  reason."

"You're the worst," Jean says flatly. "Also, in your dreams."

"You know it."

Jean just sighs heavily, looking to Armin for support - he's too busy laughing at their antics, while Mikasa just eyes them both astutely.

Well. Time to wrap this up.

"I'll see you around, yeah?" Eren asks, reaching up and swiping the beanie from Jean's head, grinning when the other boy frowns and blinks a few times in confusion.

"Yeah, if you don't text me to death," he retorts, scrubbing a hand over his flat hair. "Bye, Eren."

"Bye."

"Bye, Jean. It was nice talking with you, and I'll text you back about the 2007 lawsuit when I research it some more, alright?" Armin chips in, smiling benignly as ever. Eren never considered the two of them becoming great friends, but Armin got Jean's number on the first meeting. Eren's almost jealous.

 _Almost_  being the operative word, as Mikasa's head is tucked into Armin's neck and his thigh is resting atop hers.

"Yeah, yeah, and I'll look up the aftermath of the 2010 one. It was great to talk to you," Jean replies, smiling back. "You, too, Mikasa. I guess I'll...see you later?"

In an unxpected move, Mikasa's blank gaze fixes on Jean more perplexed one, her eyes sharp and a little menacing. "Count on it," is all she says.

Looking, understandably, more than a little afraid, Jean nods, waves, and scoots out the front door as fast as he can.

"Mikasa, why?" Eren complains the second the door slams shut.

"Any potential suitors need to know what they're dealing with," she explains swiftly, as though this is obvious.

"Look, Eren, she hasn't hit him yet - that can only be a good thing, right?" Armin points out, and when Eren looks up, Mikasa meets his eyes and nods near-imperceptibly.  _Score_. "And I like him. He's very forward-thinking and intelligent, which matches your impulsive streak very well."

Eren perks up at Armin's analysis, eyes wide as his lips unfurl into a smile. "You think so?" he asks, trying to diffuse the awe in his voice. Armin saying him and Jean are good together means the  _world_  to Eren, and not just because Armin's the smartest guy ever - Armin is his best friend, knows him better than anyone else, his tastes and likes and dislikes and...if he says Jean suits him, he's probably right.

"Yes, I do think so. I'm very happy for you."

Eren grins widely, wandering back to the living room to languish on the sofa. "Ugh, Armin, you don't  _understand_ , he's such an asshole but he's so nerdy and hot, I like him  _so_  much... I can't wait to see him again, it's gonna be great."

\--

This is not great. This is the opposite of great.

The rest of the day was great - Eren woke up in time to actually have breakfast; his teacher approved his dissertation idea; Annie taught him some new moves; he even scored a try or two in rugby. Okay, so the rugby made him stay late to shower briefly and change back into his uniform, but even Reiner said he did a good job, and up until now he's been basking in the glory of a compliment from the rugby captain himself.

This part of the hospital is usually pretty quiet except for Jean's singing. As long-term, people are usually very ill or in a coma, so they can't exactly make much noise. It's always cold, too, and the sterile environment always makes Eren feel dirty in comparison.

It's usually quiet, except for Jean's singing, clear as a bell and ringing through the long corridors, and it makes this part of the hospital a little friendlier, a little more familiar and safe.

It's been maybe ten days since Jean went to Eren's. As Jean's grandma fell asleep earlier, so the more time he spent at Eren's place. Eren had made good on his Peggle threat, and actually managed to win for once. Armin and Jean have now moved on to international law. Mikasa has made no more threats, be they verbal or physical. He and Jean have even started watching episodes of  _Brooklyn Nine Nine_  every time Jean's over.

It was all so  _great_  - until now. The second Eren steps into the unit, he knows something's wrong - too much stillness, not enough attendants, too much  _silence_.

_Oh, god._

Eren sprints to Jean's usual spot, and realises why the rest of the unit is quiet. The staff are all here, flitting in and out of Jean's grandma's room in a hurry, words like  _emergency_  and  _fatal_  and  _if we don't act now_  dripping from the room every time the door opens.

 _Oh,_  god.

Jean's sitting where Eren usually sits, shoulders hunched and shaking, face buried in his hands. He says nothing,  _does_  nothing, and Eren's heart is breaking.

He sits by him, and presses a hand into Jean's shoulder, feeling the tremble of it under his hand and the way Jean pushes back.

Encouraged that Jean isn't pushing him  _away_ , he slips his entire arm round Jean's shoulders and squeezes tightly, leaning in a little to better see Jean's face.

"Is it gonna be alright?" he first asks, 'cause it doesn't look like it is.

Jean shakes his head before answering, his voice wet and stuttery, "I don't know, I d-don't know. They won't t-tell me."

"Okay," Eren soothes. "You wanna stay here all night?" Ferocious nodding. "Okay. Want me to stay too?"

"You d-don't have to."

"I want to," he assures him. "C'mon, look at me."

Jean does so, slowly, and not without a little action on Eren's part: his free hand interlocks fingers with Jean's, slowing prising one hand from his face. He holds it gently as Jean curls his other hand into a fist, dropping it to his lap. He looks wretched, face red and blotchy with tearstains down his cheeks. His eyes are a little puffy and dark, and he tries so hard to avoid Eren's gaze that it almost hurts, except Eren thinks  _okay but his gran's almost dying_  get a grip  _Jaeger_.

"C'mon, babe," he murmurs, squeezing Jean's palm carefully. "Talk to me."

Almost reluctantly, Jean raises his head somewhat, before sorrowfully dropping it back on Eren's shoulder. It's not long til Eren can feel dampness seeping into that part of his shirt, but he says nothing, only pulls out his phone to text Mikasa as he awaits Jean's response.

_shit goin down w/ J's gran @ hspl. b back l8_

_Ok. Give J our best wishes._

Eyes warm, he tucks his phone away and looks back down at Jean, murmuring, "Mikasa and Armin give you their best wishes."

"That's nice," is his hoarse reply.

It's silent for a good while besides the clamour within the patient's room and the occasional sniff beside Eren. He's never been good at silence - too quiet and too tense, and Eren's an impatient person besides and usually cares too much to give silence time to exist. Eren's loud, and passionate, and never shuts up.

But this isn't a time for him to speak. Even though every inch of him strains to talk, he keeps quiet, drawing his fingers across Jean's shoulder, then pulling him closer when the doors slam open, his gran laying prostrate on the bed as she's rushed from the room to theatre.

At this, Jean lets out a low moan of, "Oh,  _God_ ," and Eren's heart  _aches_.

He can't promise his gran's health, or any recovery, or even that her passing may be peaceful. All he can do is caress the back of Jean's hand with his thumb and repeat, "Talk to me."

And Jean does.

About his gran being the one who taught him French, not his mum, and playing lovesongs with her husband while Jean waited for tea. About all the time spent with his gran - and not his mum - when he was young, looking after him and listening to him and  _teaching_  him. About how, as he got older, he still popped over for dinner, but saw and spoke to her far less, even when his grandpa passed away and she was left alone. How much he regrets that, all of it, and so sang to her everyday when she got sick.

He tells Eren that sometimes it feels like his gran is the only person who still loves him, all of him and he's so terrified, because what if she dies? What if she dies, right now?

"What am I going to do, Eren? What will I do?" There's something so frantic in his tone, panic visceral in his words and Christ, what a nightmare, Eren thinks, this must be for him. Jean usually seems so put together, with his neat uniform and sweet singing and how his wealth drips from everything he owns. He's easy to fluster, it's true, and too often lets his temper get the best of him, but at least then he's still animated and passionate.

Suffice to say, sadness is not a good look on Jean. Eren wants to do everything he can to remove it.

"You'll still have me," Eren promises, shifting his arm back so he can wipe away the tears trickling down Jean's cheeks. "Yeah? Me and your mates, Marco and Connie and Sasha. You've got Armin, and even Mikasa. We'll help you through it, if it does go wrong."

It's the only thing he can think of to say, but it seems to do the job. "It isn't the same," Jean mutters, voice weary and worn, "but it's...enough. I suppose."

And that's enough for Eren.

\--

They get kicked out at eleven. Jean struggles - he yells and reasons and pleads - but he's just a teenager, he has to go home and sleep and go to school. He has to eat, because he didn't in the hospital, and Eren makes sure he orders a pizza before getting picked up.

They're both exhausted - Jean didn't cry long, but he cried hard, and slumped into Eren for the rest of the evening, even though the rigid chair arm must have dug into his ribs. Eren returned his arm to Jean's shoulders, and with his other hand Jean ocassionally squeezed Eren's, eyes screwed shut as though he was trying to hold something back.

Eren knows loss well - too well, he knows, for a guy his age. His own dad, walking out in pursuit of some higher, intellectual - better-paid - medical discovery; Armin's parents, avid sailors who learned the hard way that the ocean is its own beast; Mikasa's face, very deeply ingrained into Eren' memory, the day they first met, three weeks after her parents' murder and a kidnapping-gone-wrong forced her to lose her innocence.  
Eren thinks he would've gone and killed those men himself had Mikasa not done it.

Eren knows his own loss - loss of a father figure, of his temper, money and security. He knows how to deal with Jean, for the most part. Love, in its most tangible form - they hold one another til Jean's car pulls up.

"Text me, okay?" Eren insists, lips tilted to Jean's ear so he understands exactly what he's saying. "Or call me, at any time, I don't care. I'll be here tomorrow as soon as I can, I'll bring food, yeah?"

Jean hasn't spoken in hours. He nods, chin bumping into Eren's shoulder, and disengages, unwinding his arms from Eren's torso and stepping back. He doesn't smile, and Eren wouldn't expect that, but between puffy red skin Jean's eyes are a little brighter than before, and he waves before getting into his car.

It's nearing midwinter, so it's fucking freezing, of course, and Eren yanks his jacket tighter and pulls on his beanie and scarf and starts a brisk walk to the bus stop to warm up.

He stops, realises his bus has finished its rounds, and does a one-eighty to the train station. It costs more, and it's five extra blocks' walking, but unless he wants to spend a useless tenner on a too-expensive cab, it's his only option.

Eren's gone five paces before realising Jean's shiny car is still there, and the window rolls down and Jean asks, "You want a lift?"

Eren wants to say no, for the whole principle of the thing, but he wants to make sure Jean's alright for as long as possible, and he's also skint and can't bear a whole extra pound for a train ticket.

"Sure," he says, and the door opens and he hops in. The inside is as flashy as the outside, plush leather padding and lots of leg room and little tellies attached to the ceiling by shiny metal arms. There's a screen between the front seats and the rear, and the door is lined with all sorts of buttons.

Jean's bag is on the seat between them, so Eren dumps his on the ground and stretches out.

"Address?" a sharp voice asks on some kind of intercom, and Eren knows his eyebrows have shot up because Jean barely stifles a grin before pointing to the right button for him to reply.

He's brash as he relays it off - downtown Shinganshina where all the robberies and stabbings and gang activity takes place. No post code envy, for sure, but Jean didn't say anything when he went there. Thankfully, the driver just thanks him and starts driving.

"Do you've anyone home?" Eren asks.

Jean's face, previously sporting vague amusement from earlier, drops, and Eren curses himself for  _always_  getting this shit wrong.

"Oh, well,  _Maman_ 's away travelling for her next collection, but the, uh, the maid and the house keep and some...others..."

"Wanna stay with me?"

"Ah, no, I have to go home," but Jean doesn't sound like he wants to. "Thanks, though."

Eren shrugs, unwilling to push the issue, and turns his attention to the flickering lanscape of urban St. Maria, leaving his hand up on the seat just in front of Jean's bag. He counts thirteen seconds before warm fingers interlock with his and he smiles despite himself for the entire journey.

He leaves Jean with a forehead kiss and another reassurance that Eren is always available to talk.

Jean doesn't text him that night. He calls him, at three a.m., and falls asleep talking about the Alps in France.

\--

School, unsurprisingly, is a bitch. There's only two months until prelims, and not a single teacher lets them forget it. Some kids swear they've got unconditionals to their uni and aren't working at all. Others with sports scholarships, like Reiner Braun, are half-assing it. Eren's working hard, because he's had to work hard to achieve anything in his life, and if that means staying overtime in English during lunch to finish his textual analysis, then he'll do it.

He's just a little...distracted, finds himself consumed by this unbearable urge to text Jean, call him, make sure he's alright. Mikasa and Armin see it, but don't comment upon it. They all know it'll only subside when Eren sees Jean again.

School ends at half three, or five on Wednesdays, for compulsory rugby training - Eren's in the 1st XV - and he ends up begging off, claiming dizziness and headaches and promises to bring in a letter from his mum tomorrow.

Their school isn't great. It's not as shitty as some schools, but there are certainly better - for example, St. Maria's Academy, where both Mikasa and Armin earned scholarships at but refused to go to without him. Most kids can walk home, Eren and Mikasa included. Armin cycles. A bunch get the bus or train, but not many live too far out. Mikasa walks with him to the bus stop, where he catches the bus with a boy called Bertholdt Fubar, the only guy to take this one. He never asks about Eren's sudden change of route, and for that Eren is thankful. It's kind of hard to explain why you're suddenly infatuated with some boy you used to creep on at the hospital.

Bertl's not much of a talker, though, so Eren sits with him but is still able to listen to his own music without being disturbed.

The stop's a block away from the hospital: Eren runs into a little news agent's to grab some energy drinks, some water, a ridiculous quantity of unhealthy foods including but not limited to a huge bar of Dairy Milk and a few cups of Micro-Noodles, and a wee book of Su Doku, because he always races Armin to see who can finish the Sunday Times' one first. Admittedly, Eren does easy and Armin hard and he always only ever  _just_ wins, but whatever.

It's still fun, and practice makes perfect, right? Maybe he'll even be better than Jean.

The scene is much different from yesterday. The same kind of silence, perhaps, but everywhere, including Jean's gran's room, is still. The attendant at the front tells Eren it's family-only for Ms Beaumont. Eren ignores them.

Jean is singing again. It's very, very soft, and cracks too often. His voice hitches and halts, and too often he trips over the intricacies of French and stumbles through the lines.

Eren glances at his old seat, where he spent months obviously disguised as a casual visitor, and where Jean had sobbed his heart out only the day previous. For a second, he feels unbearably weary, as through decades have passed instead of mere hours since he last saw Jean. Death, or anything remotely close to it, is a little jarring. Eren was unaware that dealing with those affected by it was just as - or even more - exhausting.

Perhaps it should've been obvious - had his mother not cried for weeks before tiresomely searching for another job when his father left? Hadn't Mikasa's haunted face been seared into his memory when he was ten? And Armin, who'd spent days locked up in his grandfather's study - hadn't he refused to come out for a week after his parents' deaths?

Eren leans against the door frame, and Jean keeps singing.

This is not loss yet, nor death, and when Eren takes the seat opposite Jean, he grasps his gran's hand tighter and looks up briefly and keeps going. He stops only when his voice gets a little hoarse and Eren all but forces the drinks and food down his throat. They do play Su Doku -  _why_  is everyone so good at this fucking game? - for about an hour as they eat, and Eren happily munches on the Dairy Milk. Occasionally, he tosses a bit at Jean's nose whilst he sings.

A nurse comes to kick them out, assuring Jean they're doing all they can, and, as usual, they end up doddling on the bare pavement outside in the freezing cold.

As per, Eren digs out his winter essentials. Jean's shivering, blazer buttoned up - like a  _nerd_ , Eren doesn't remark - and hands in pockets.

"Jesus," Eren sighs, twirling the beanie round a finger before letting it loose at Jean's face. "Just  _keep_  it."

And Jean puts it on, and it looks stupid with his pristine uniform and shiny car waiting for him, but the tops of his cheeks are rosy from the cold and he says, "Thank you," and suddenly Eren doesn't know what Jean's thanking him for.

He stares, dumbstruck as the car zooms away and taking what possibly may be the guy Eren's in  _love_  with with it.

To hermione 8):  _im so fuckd_

From hermione 8):  _It took you this long?_

He finds himself listening to sappy lovesongs the entire way home.

\--

This continues for three weeks. Eren deals with the shit school throws at him - including further panic about prelims and a warning for skipping rugby practice twice - then Eren gets food, then gets to the hospital, then feeds a reluctant Jean who keeps on singing.

Three weeks takes its toll. Jean seems to be torn two ways - either his gran will get better, and he can chill the fuck out again, or his gran will keep lying prone in bed like this and eventually die. He bounces between moments of joy and sonorous singing, then despair and songs interrupted by hitched breath and trembling stutters.

It's exhausting to watch.

Eren wants to bring more stuff - food, magazines,  _any_ thing - but obviously he's broke as hell and the scant allowance from his mum lasts six days before he shows up with one lone Mars Bar.

Jean comes in the next day with a plastic bag bulging, and Eren's beyond embarrassed.

"Why'd you bring this?" he demands on the seventh day, voice too suddenly abrasive as it cuts off Jean's soft tone.

"What do you mean?"

"This," Eren grabs the bag and holds it up." "How much was all this shit, huh?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Jean was in a more serene mood for the two seconds before Eren glimpsed the bag. "C'mon, Eren , just sit down."

"No! I was supposed to be buying this crap for  _you_ , to make sure you ate and were okay, but just because I'm poor doesn't mean you have to take pity on me and buy it all instead!"

Jean heaves a long-suffering sigh and leans a bit further onto his gran's bed. Old creases are etched deep into his skin and his shoulders hunch in exhaustion instead of stubbornness.

Eren sighs, and deposits the bag.

"Maybe this is me trying to pay you back, yeah?" Jean points out, his gaze fixed on Eren.

"Pay me back?" Eren squawks.

"Yeah. You bought me all that stuff just to make sure I was okay, and you even gave me your beanie yesterday, so now I'm just..."

Eren's pretty sure that's not the whole truth, but it's something he can accept.

"Sorry," he mutters, and that's the end of that.

\--

The twenty-first day marks Advent. Instead of song, Eren hears a one-sided conversation, jerking between frustration and desperation.  
It turns to pure misery by the time Eren's taken his seat. The attendants don't bother him. "But,  _Maman_ , what if she doesn't wake up? What do I do?" A pause. Anger holds Jean's features within seconds. "I haven't seen him in years,  _Maman_ , I don't even know where he is...  _Maman,_  what's so important that you won't come back home? I'm your  _son_..." His eyes are too sad, again, features frozen as he growls out, "Fine, I'll stay home."

But his voice catches, and he can' t look Eren in the eye for a full minute.

He decides to take initiative: "What happened?"

The eyes that lock onto his are red and wet. "My  _mère_  won't come home for Christmas, and if  _Grandmère_  doesn't wake up..."

Eren drags his chair to Jean's side. "C'mon, c'mon," he hushes, easily sliding his arm round Jean's shoulders. It feels like coming home, and Eren thinks,  _This is not the time_ , so he just says, "I've got you."

Jean's gran wakes up on the twenty-second day.

\--

School is just about ruining Eren - besides rugby training, teachers are handing out a shit ton of prelim practice papers, making every class a lesson on how to conceal tears of disappointment and failure (thankfully, everyone else is the same), and deadlines for dissertation chapters and other bullshit assignments are starting to seem a lot more concrete than before. Even during his free periods, Eren's studying, usually trying to write out as much as he can before having to hand something in. It's stressful, and tiring, but at least he's not a fifth year, because those kids are having breakdowns all over the place. Armin, who decided to crash Higher Chemistry 'just for the fun of it!' has reported at least five different pupils breaking down over lab work, and how nearly everyone there cries when they receive their homework back.

Needless to say, Eren's glad that phase of his life is over. He took Higher Chemistry last year (who the fuck thought that was a good idea, he now wonders), and probably shed more tears during those double periods than in any other subject he took.

Eren's been running on empty all day, even though Mikasa keeps pitching up with some coffee for him and Armin makes sure they have lunch together. He's too engrossed in re-reading his novel in the common room to text Jean before rugby, and they run on due to the absurd sunshine despite the freezing cold. It's half five when Eren gets on the bus, bone cold and close to dozing off as he sits. To keep himself awake, he checks his phone: Mikasa's sent him a row of frowny faces in reply to him going straight to the hospital instead of stopping off somewhere after rugby, and he assures her he'll eat there. There's some other stuff from other friends, but they all pale in comparison when he realises he has a text from Jean.

From Jean bb <3: _!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Accompanying it is a selfie of him, bent backwards with his arm round his gran's shoulders and looking so ridiculously happy that Eren can't help grinning. His gran, who Eren hasn't seen moving up close yet, resembles Jean somewhat: same straight nose and amber eyes, but her cheeks are more fleshy and her face more round that Jean. She's smiling as well, eyes crinkling, possibly with confusion, as she stares at the phone.

Jean looks happier than Eren's seen in  _weeks_. He looks so fucking  _cute_  as well, looking absolutely  _gleeful_  for once, completely uninhibited by his previous worries and Eren must make some kind of noise, because Bertl, who tries so hard to give people privacy but is really too tall for it, inadvertently sees the zoomed-in pic.

Eren doesn't realise until Bertl quietly says, "He's cute."

Now, Eren's first instinct, of course, is to instantly reprimand anyone for calling  _his_  boyfriend-or-near-enough 'cute', but Bertl and Reiner are practically engaged, so Eren figures he doesn't have much to fear. Instead, he sighs, "He  _is_."

It's very quiet for a moment, then, in a move never anticipated before, Bertl asks, "Who is he?"

So Eren tells him. "Jean Kirschtein. He's at St. Maria's Academy, we met at the hospital that time I was in for duffing up Daz for saying shit to Mikasa, and he's been in looking after his gran, so, uh..." Eren feels a slightly abridged version of their meeting - or, one not including Eren's continued stalking  _then_  their meeting  _then_ their ridiculous fight - is only appropriate here. "So, we started hanging out more. We're pretty close." Eren shrugs. "I really like him."

Bertl's eyeing him very astutely, because it's always the quiet ones, isn't it? "You do fight a lot less, now."

Eren wants to say that's due to school, but he knows it isn't all true. "I guess he's a good influence." He looks back at the picture, mouth twisting up despite himself at the pure joy that seems to radiate from it, and when he looks up, Bertl's smiling too.

What an odd bus journey this is.

This time, they part with actual goodbyes, and Eren near-sprints all the way to Jean's gran's room. He can hear them over his heavy footfalls the closer he gets, talking and laughing and he freezes at the door, suddenly uncertain of his welcome. Jean's gran is sitting up against the bed, and Jean's half on it, legs dangling off with his arm still secure round her shoulders.

His approach must have been obvious. Jean turns to him, and he looks so happy Eren could cry, and he says, "Granny, this is Eren Jaeger. He's been keeping me company the last few weeks."

She peers round Jean to meet Eren's gaze, and her smile mirrors her grandson's. "Eren?" she repeats carefully. "It's lovely to meet you, Eren. I'm Laure Beaumont. You're the boy who started sitting out there some time ago, yes?"

Eren turns red, but nods nonetheless. Jean beckons him in, so he sits where Jean usually does, and this time the other boy takes his hand and smiles.

"Hey, Eren," Jean says, all bright-eyed and flushed with happiness. Eren's so glad he already has a picture. "Did you get my text?"

"Yeah, I got it," Eren replies, choosing not to say that it's now - well, Jean's zoomed-in face is - his phone's lock screen. "You looked like a right tit" - Jean pouts indignantly - "but, like, sort of cute, so...whatever."

Jean whacks their held hands against Eren's shoulder. "You're so annoying," he sighs. Turning to his gran, he complains, "Look what I have to put up with."

"I think he's a real charmer," Laure says serenely. "What a perfect match."

"Grandma! You're meant to take my side!"

"Is that so?"

"Ugh, Gran, you don't understand, he always says those things and then acts all innocent, and the first time we met he gave me a black eye for days, remember?"

"Jean, what you're forgetting is that when your grandfather and I met, I hit him so hard the bruise didn't fade for two weeks."  
Eren's grinning widely, and Jean looks absolutely defeated as he slumps.

"Oh my god, I can't believe you would turn on me like this."

They continue to chatter for the next hour, though at some point Eren's exhaustion catches up to him and he awakens to find himself slumped onto Jean's lap, fingers combing through his hair. Not for long, sadly, as the attendant's voice rings out again that visiting hours are up (although Eren has a feeling they prolonged this particular patient's visiting hours, considering it's way past six), and Eren scrambles to his feet as Jean hugs his gran and wishes her goodbye before he standing.

"Goodbye, Jean; Eren," she smiles, resting back.

"Bye, Laure," Eren calls, and scoots out with Jean in tow.

Jean's car is stalling beside the curb, but Eren holds Jean back, framing his face with his hands so he can fully capture the beauty of Jean's smile. Jean leans into it, and the ends of Eren's mouth quirk up, and Jean's gazing straight into his eyes, warm and happy and glittering with something undescribable, and Eren would laugh but he knows he's staring back just as soft.

"Be my, be my baby," Eren sings under his breath, out of tune and all crackly.

"Shut the fuck up," Jean mutters back, but his sweet tone cancels out any hostility. "Of course, you idiot."

"Yeah?!" Eren asks, too loudly as he grins. Jean nods. " _Yas_! Fucking  _finally_!" he hollers, jumping up and pumping his arms into the air. "High five!" he calls, holding a hand out for Jean.

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

So Jean sighs and high fives him, except  _syke_  Eren actually just wanted to hold hands. He lets go quickly though as Jean's features remain unimpressed, and he instead slips his arm round Jean's waist and squeezes him to his side, pulling out his phone and bringing up Snapchat.

"Mind if I break the news?" Eren asks, knowing he's giddy as hell right now and being stupid, but Jean's the same so he just nods, and on the selfie cam where Eren looks overjoyed, Jean looks almost bored in contrast, all crossed arms and narrow eyes, but he's got the smallest smile on and it makes Eren even happier.

He takes the pic, of course, and captions it:  _just chillin with the boyfriend <33_ and selects Mikasa, Armin, and Bertholdt, just because.

"Hang on," Jean says, "if you add my friends, you could sent it to them, too."

Raising his eyebrows, Eren asks, "You want me to?"

Jean shrugs. "Might as well let them know." So Eren adds the three names and selects those, too, before shooting it off.

Eren turns so he's facing Jean a little more, grabbing his hand and swinging them together more as Jean hems and haws a bit. He's loitering, Eren can tell, because usually he says bye and fucks off, but he's just standing in Eren's embrace, and raising his hand to cup the back of Eren's neck.

Suddenly shy, Jean looks down, and asks quietly, "I was wondering, uh...if you maybe wanted to...er..."

"Out with it," Eren commands.

Jean's head snaps up, glaring, and he says vehemently, "I was wondering if you and your family wanted to have Christmas dinner at my place!"

"Does that include Armin and his grandpa?" Eren ascertains.

"Uh...sure?"

Squeezing their hands together, Eren says, "Duh, we'll go! I'll just tell my mum, yeah? I'll call you later tonight about the details, or...whenever?"

Jean shrugs, then nods. "Sure, whatever. Can I go to yours' tomorrow, actually, and we can talk then?"

"Sure!" Eren's grinning ecstatically, and they're pressed together from the force with which Eren's holding him. Despite the cold, Jean's a long line of solid heat against him, so he holds on tighter. "I knew you couldn't resist me for long."

"More like I couldn't keep ignoring you when you were being so annoying all the time," Jean bites back, but he looks just as happy as Eren, hand warm on his neck. "You're such an idiot."

"Well, you're an asshole," Eren says, "but you're  _my_  asshole."

"God, I hate you, I'm calling this off, I'm  _not_  going out with someone who-"

Eren silences him with a kiss.

"Hey! I was-"

And another one, because clearly Jean wasn't getting the right idea.

" _Asshole_ ," Jean whispers, then reels Eren in for another, and another, then maybe a lot more before Jean's driver starts blasting the horn and they jump apart, unwinding arms from various body parts and Eren can't help but grin at the way saliva coats Jean's bottom lip.

"Bye, babe," Eren murmurs as Jean begins to leave.

"Later, Eren," Jean replies before disappearing into his car.

As Eren walks to the bus, he receives four snapchats: Mikasa and Armin huddled together on the sofa, smiling a little with thumbs up and a  _Good job!_ ; Reiner and Bertholdt, the former grinning widely while the latter just smiles a little, with a  _he IS cute_  attached; an unfamiliar dark-skinned boy with a shit ton of freckles, with a smile like sunshine and  _omg is this eren wow!! u 2 r v cute!! :D_ ; and a boy with a buzzcut and a girl with a high ponytail high-fiving, with  _wow u must really like the horseface huh ;P_.

Eren actually feels quite proud. He feels even prouder when he gets on the bus and finds a message from Jean already:  _sending that snapchat was the WORSE IDEA EVER. I HATE U_

To jean bb <3:  _< 33_

**Author's Note:**

> if u somewhat found some vague enjoyment in this, feel free to hit me up at [here](http://www.tyrellis.tumblr.com) for the usual got/tw/text posts tumblr bs, or at [here](http://www.mlp-michaeljones.tumblr.com) for some more concentrated snk <3


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